Alyssa Nace EDC 102H F13 Dr. Fogleman Due: September 25, 2013
I don't really remember all of my elementary education experience, though I do remember some specifics from a few grades. I had some really great teachers who taught me a lot during those years. I can't say the same about middle school though. I don't really think any of my teachers there were inspirational beyond the common "You have a lot of potential; keep up the good work!"
I think one of my first true memories of inspiration from elementary school is from my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Fox. Our class was the first to open up a school store for the students to raise money for the 6th graders' end-of-the-year field trip by selling little oddities like lip gloss, trading cards, or those little parachuting men. My teacher assigned each of us to a group (stock, advertisement, pricing), and then chose team leaders who were in charge of their group. I was put in the cashier group and made team leader. My job was pretty much to be a cashier, but also be the go-to person in case another cashier was having trouble adding prices or giving change. Now, I was pretty quiet and shy back then, so I was surprised that she gave me a role in which I was looked up to and listened to. She told me that I was one of the best students in math (which meant a lot to me back then), that I was responsible, and that I was a nice, approachable person. She said that all of these qualities would get me far in life, and she wanted me to exercise them so I would know how to use them later in life. I thanked her, told her I would keep it up, and left Mrs. Fox's room with a broad smile on my face.
I had another inspirational experience in fifth grade. I had become exponentially chattier over the summer, to the extent that, about two or three weeks into the year, my teacher, Mrs. Shea, moved my desk so it was facing the side wall of the room. She told me her reasoning was, "Anyone can talk to others, but not even you can have a conversation with a wall". She had me sitting there, facing that wall, through fall, winter, and a little into spring. I always felt miserable in class because I felt like she hated me or had something against me. In spring though, she had us write our own poems for her to pick the best ones to enter in a contest. I wrote maybe six or so poems, mostly acrostics or limericks. I handed them in and she told me none of them were the type of work she was looking for. I went home that day determined to amaze Mrs. Shea with my next poem. So, I wrote a free-form poem about how we shouldn't judge others and how I wished one day we could all laugh and be happy together. I handed it in, and she picked it as one of the ones she entered. She told me after school that my poem was absolutely amazing and that I had good writing potential. It wasn't anything super special, but considering I thought she flat out hated me, it was a wonderful thing to hear.
My experience in sixth grade is actually one of the factors that contributed to my realization that I want to teach. I had Mrs. Specht, and she was a nice, easy-going teacher. She didn't rush students any more than was necessary to keep schedule, especially in math. Problem was, one student was very far ahead of the others: me. I was in the second math book weeks before I should have been; while the other students were struggling with the early concepts. One day, Mrs. Specht talked to me about how far ahead I was. She said that though my progress was great, I could not be allowed to do work so far ahead of the other students. She suggested that instead of me going ahead in the book when I finished a section ahead of time, I walk around and try to help students who were struggling. I agreed, and I thoroughly enjoyed helping my peers work their way through math problems. That is what inspired me to seriously consider being a teacher.
Like I said earlier, none of my middle school teachers were particularly inspirational to me. They told me the same thing they told everyone: "You have potential, keep up the good work." Not even the guidance councilors were inspirational. But, that was fine with me; I had gotten plenty of inspiration from my elementary teachers. They definitely shaped who I am today because they made me realize at a young age that as long as I work hard and try my best, I can get to good places in life.
EDC 102H F13
Dr. Fogleman
Due: September 25, 2013
I don't really remember all of my elementary education experience, though I do remember some specifics from a few grades. I had some really great teachers who taught me a lot during those years. I can't say the same about middle school though. I don't really think any of my teachers there were inspirational beyond the common "You have a lot of potential; keep up the good work!"
I think one of my first true memories of inspiration from elementary school is from my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Fox. Our class was the first to open up a school store for the students to raise money for the 6th graders' end-of-the-year field trip by selling little oddities like lip gloss, trading cards, or those little parachuting men. My teacher assigned each of us to a group (stock, advertisement, pricing), and then chose team leaders who were in charge of their group. I was put in the cashier group and made team leader. My job was pretty much to be a cashier, but also be the go-to person in case another cashier was having trouble adding prices or giving change. Now, I was pretty quiet and shy back then, so I was surprised that she gave me a role in which I was looked up to and listened to. She told me that I was one of the best students in math (which meant a lot to me back then), that I was responsible, and that I was a nice, approachable person. She said that all of these qualities would get me far in life, and she wanted me to exercise them so I would know how to use them later in life. I thanked her, told her I would keep it up, and left Mrs. Fox's room with a broad smile on my face.
I had another inspirational experience in fifth grade. I had become exponentially chattier over the summer, to the extent that, about two or three weeks into the year, my teacher, Mrs. Shea, moved my desk so it was facing the side wall of the room. She told me her reasoning was, "Anyone can talk to others, but not even you can have a conversation with a wall". She had me sitting there, facing that wall, through fall, winter, and a little into spring. I always felt miserable in class because I felt like she hated me or had something against me. In spring though, she had us write our own poems for her to pick the best ones to enter in a contest. I wrote maybe six or so poems, mostly acrostics or limericks. I handed them in and she told me none of them were the type of work she was looking for. I went home that day determined to amaze Mrs. Shea with my next poem. So, I wrote a free-form poem about how we shouldn't judge others and how I wished one day we could all laugh and be happy together. I handed it in, and she picked it as one of the ones she entered. She told me after school that my poem was absolutely amazing and that I had good writing potential. It wasn't anything super special, but considering I thought she flat out hated me, it was a wonderful thing to hear.
My experience in sixth grade is actually one of the factors that contributed to my realization that I want to teach. I had Mrs. Specht, and she was a nice, easy-going teacher. She didn't rush students any more than was necessary to keep schedule, especially in math. Problem was, one student was very far ahead of the others: me. I was in the second math book weeks before I should have been; while the other students were struggling with the early concepts. One day, Mrs. Specht talked to me about how far ahead I was. She said that though my progress was great, I could not be allowed to do work so far ahead of the other students. She suggested that instead of me going ahead in the book when I finished a section ahead of time, I walk around and try to help students who were struggling. I agreed, and I thoroughly enjoyed helping my peers work their way through math problems. That is what inspired me to seriously consider being a teacher.
Like I said earlier, none of my middle school teachers were particularly inspirational to me. They told me the same thing they told everyone: "You have potential, keep up the good work." Not even the guidance councilors were inspirational. But, that was fine with me; I had gotten plenty of inspiration from my elementary teachers. They definitely shaped who I am today because they made me realize at a young age that as long as I work hard and try my best, I can get to good places in life.